


Blackout

by Clxarke



Series: Look at the Fireworks [1]
Category: In the Heights - Miranda
Genre: Blackout (In the Heights), Canon Compliant, Canon verse, Explicit Language, Headcanon, Hurt/Comfort, I just realized I ship these losers and there's a horrible lack of content, M/M, What really happened during the Blackout, alt-ending to Blackout Song, anxiety attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 16:53:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6814216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clxarke/pseuds/Clxarke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A glimpse at what happened during the Blackout (without the rhyme schemes) </p><p>My interpretation of  Sonny and Pete's interaction in Blackout +Bonus Scene</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blackout

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Characters and themes belong to the marvelous Lin-Manuel Miranda. Many direct references to the lyrics of "Blackout." The ending of the song (where the Bodega gets destroyed) is changed cuz I'm a big ol' sap.
> 
> WARNINGS: Explicit Language, an Anxiety Attack is featured, Gun mention.
> 
> Note: The actors I used for characterization are Robin de Jesús and Seth Stewart from the original cast.
> 
> I'm hopping on the "In the heights" bandwagon a few years late— but I'm in love with the show and the characters and I hope I've done them justice! 
> 
> Enjoy!

The lights went out.

For a split second the Barrio was silent, lacking chatter and the constant white noise of electricity. Sonny had grown so accustomed to the hum of machinery that he hardly noticed its presence until it was gone. The Bodega was dead quiet, not even the telltale vibration of the refrigerator. The lights on the block had gone out. It was like someone had thrown a blanket over the neighborhood. Sonny didn’t move, frozen in shock. 

Then the city erupted.

There were screams and crashes as people stumbled about the darkened city. Human noises of survival were the only constant sounds. Sonny’s hands scrabbled around the shop, searching for a flashlight or at least some candles. Usnavi would be back soon, he was sure of it. Until he was, Sonny was in charge of keeping the place in one piece.

 Outside the streets were in chaos. Distant alarms and sirens were amplified by the lack of usual electric ambiance. A hundred names were shouted at once in a symphony of panic. 

Sonny managed to find a few candles in the back and lit them with a spare pocket-lighter, not bothering to remove the price tags. The grate was open and he saw the faint outline of running strangers— the silhouettes were somehow darker than the dense curtain of night. 

As soon as Sonny lit the last candle and looked up, a figure emerged from the shadows— stepping into the range of light.

“Shit, man!” Sonny exclaimed, jumping at the appearance of the sudden visitor. “You scared the hell out of me!”

Graffiti Pete didn’t seem distinctly sorry, too preoccupied to consider the emotion.

“Yo, there are riots in the street.” He warned hastily. “Some guys are throwing bottles.”

“But the power went out a _minute_ ago!”

“Try tellin’ them that.” Pete suggested, tossing his bag on the counter. “Grab some stuff.”

“What stuff?”

“God, you’re slow today. I meant flashlights and shit. Lets go.” 

“I’m not going anywhere.” Sonny protested. Pete stopped moving. “I have to guard the store.”

The artist narrowed his eyes. “If the vandals show up, you wont  _have_  a goddamn store. I heard some guys are bringing  _guns_ , man. C’mon!”  

“I’m not playin’!” Sonny objected. The store was everything Usnavi had to remember his parents. It was Sonny’s work, his safe place. This corner was his home. “I can’t leave.” 

There was a holler outside and the sound of a dozen sneakers hitting the pavement. Pete cursed under his breath before shaking his head and rummaging through his bag.

“You got weapons?”

Sonny blinked, not expecting his cooperation. “I got a baseball bat in the back?”

“Grab that.” Pete extracted some long sticks from his bag. “I’ll use some Roman Candles to distract them. Go.”

Sonny turned without another moment’s notice and ran to the back, candle in hand.

He grabbed the bat from the far corner of the storage room. As soon as he turned around, he heard sounds of fighting outside. His pulse hammered as his fist wrapped tighter around the base of the bat.  

He rushed out to the pitch-black street corner. There were dancing silhouettes of the perpetrators, but he couldn’t see Pete. Sonny felt the distant thrum of disappointment. Pete had probably left to save his own ass. It made sense for him to—

“Back up! Back up!” Pete’s voice rose above the chaos. “Back  _up_!” It was meant to threaten the vandals, which it did, but it also served as a good enough warning for Sonny to get the hell out of the firing zone.  He ducked backed into the Bodega just in time for a starburst of white to brand his vision.

Sparks flew in every direction, illuminating the fleeing, panicked thugs. Sonny’s vision was spotted, having just started to adjust to the dark. He blinked rapidly to see Pete. He had a Roman candle in each hand and the most engaged look on his face. He was grimacing, but it faded to a smile as he saw the running figures. Even with his baggy, hand-me-down clothes, he was a sight. He was half dazzling brightness and half inky shadow.

Sonny was breathless and it took him a moment to shake the feeling.

The sparks died down gradually. Pete tossed the canisters aside.

“Guess I don’t need this after all.” Sonny mused, lifting his bat as an indication.

Pete shrugged modestly. “Good to have it though. I don’t know how long that’ll keep them away. You should get that grate down.”

Sonny smiled at him, in spite of the horrible night he was having. There was a dull ache in his chest when Pete returned the smile. Sonny was majorly screwed.

He tossed Pete’s bag out of the store and reached up to close the grate. The metal creaked as if it were going to give any second— but no matter how hard he pulled, it stuck stubbornly in place.  The store remained exposed.

 “Fuck.”

 Sonny was tearing up. He couldn’t help it. There was so much happening with the power outage, Usnavi’s disappearance, and the thugs. Now he couldn’t even get the goddamn grate down. If he could just get this one thing right…

His hands were still on the grate, but he stopped pulling, paralyzed. Everything was closing in. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. Pete’s worried gaze landed on him, but he couldn’t turn his head. He felt so powerless.

“Sonny? You all right, buddy? 

“ _Fuck_.” Sonny said with more feeling. He took a shuddering breath, “It’s late and this grate wont  _fucking_ come down!”

Sonny didn’t remember Pete walking closer, but suddenly they were close enough to share body heat— an unappealing notion on this sweltering night. He felt a calloused hand pry his own from the grate, then the other.

“C’mon, lets get you inside.” Pete coaxed, gently leading Sonny back under the roof.

“I—The store…” Sonny hated to shiver like that in this intense heat, but he couldn’t stop shaking. “I have to…”

“ _Hey, hey, hey_. Shh.” Pete soothed. It was strange for comfort to appear from someone who was usually so troublesome.  “Lets take a breather. Just for a minute, okay?”

Sonny sat down on Usnavi’s usual stool. Pete reached into the mini-fridge and pulled out a raspberry flavored, generic brand of soft drink. It was still cold from its previous hours of containment. The tab popped with a short hiss. Pete stuck the drink out to Sonny, silently urging him to take it.

“Usnavi will be mad.” He protested weakly, still containing his anxious jitters. 

Pete sent him an incredulous look that translated to something like; _Dude, you never follow the rules and you're literally having an anxiety attack right now, take the damn soda._ But he didn’t say that.

He just said, “I’ll pay for it. Drink.”

Sonny accepted it slowly. Pete didn’t mention how Sonny’s hands shook, nor that he kept unwavering eye contact through the first sip. Sonny didn’t mention the red that crept up Pete’s neck— or the fact that he stared back. They were good at not mentioning things. 

Pete excused himself softly. “I’m going to go stand guard out front.”

He was happy to be left alone, though he knew Pete wouldn’t judge him. They’d been good friends for as long as he could remember. Over the years, the days had collected into a million moments shared. He was more worried about his own embarrassment. It was humiliating to show weakness to someone who just singlehandedly protected Usnavi’s business. 

Sonny saw a few people pass by the store. They stopped to speak to Pete. He was gathering information and, in turn, helping people out. It was an odd position for someone who often acted as the punch line for an unfunny joke about getting your life together.

To them, he was Graffiti Pete, no story, just an annoyance. No one understood that Pete’s graffiti was art. They couldn’t see the difference between Pete’s masterpieces and other people’s messy tags. Pete’s style was his own— it made him an individual. No one, except Sonny, got that. It was a true shame. 

There were a few familiar explosive sounds. The fireworks had started. Happy 4th of July, the world seemed to say to the darkened Barrio.

 Once Sonny felt like he could breathe without a hundred pounds on his chest, he joined Pete— who was leaning, lax against the storefront. Sonny had no idea how someone could be so relaxed in their situation. Pete’s head was tilted up, his eyes on the sky.

 “Why are you here?”

 Pete looked over, studying him. “Overstaying my welcome, am I?”

 “No, shit, I just mean— this is the perfect time to get some paint up around town. Everyone’s freaking out. No one would notice. Why are you here?”

A delicate silence built like a tall tower of playing cards. Sonny feared Pete wasn’t going to answer, but he did, after a long moment.

“It’s fucking dark out here, man.” Pete’s tone didn’t replicate the nonchalance of his words. His voice was nervy, unconvincing. “I kinda need working vision to paint.”

Sonny looked up at the glittering fireworks display. He might have continued to play their game of ignoring the obvious if Pete’s flushed skin wasn’t within reach or if his voice hadn’t cracked so many times. There were many lessons Usnavi taught him, but there were a few that _Sonny_ taught _Usnavi_. One of the most important things he’s insisted upon Usnavi was to never let moments pass by.

He decided to take his own advice.

“Thank you.” Sonny heard himself say. “Thanks for…”

He couldn’t pick a solitary thing. There were too many to choose from and he wasn’t about to say, _everything_ , because that would be cheesy as fuck, no matter how true a statement it was. 

The fireworks continued bursting against the sky, casting spots of multicolored lights over the blind city. With every flash, Sonny saw recognition gradually flood Pete’s eyes. There was something unspoken between them that was only allowed to be acknowledged at that very moment.

Before either of them knew what was happening, Pete was ducking his head and Sonny was reaching up. There was no further discussion. They met in the middle. A firework exploded somewhere nearby, but they didn’t notice it. Sonny’s hands were desperately grasping Pete’s hips, and Pete’s hands were cupping Sonny’s jaw. It was a factual moment when they kissed.

 The Barrio must have felt the tides change, because everyone within a few blocks looked toward the sky— candles and flashlights illuminating their faces.

Pete pulled apart first, allowing his lips to linger as he breathed heavily, shifting to fit more comfortably in Sonny’s hold. They didn’t know where to go from there, so they didn’t stress it. The vandals didn’t come back. They kissed again. And again. And watched the fireworks until the world ran out of miracles.

 

  

+Bonus scene:

 

“So, what about that kiss, huh?” Carla cooed, sweeping up at the Salon. Sonny’s leg jerked and knocked over a mannequin. He caught it before it hit the ground, his eyes wide. “Literal fireworks and everything! Very fitting.”

The other girls were out so Usnavi sent Sonny to keep her company. He’d expected mindless chatter about whatever news was buzzing in the Barrio, not  _this_.

“What, uh, how you do know about the kiss?” His voice was strained. He pulled on the strings of his hoodie anxiously.

“I saw it.” She said simply, almost offended that he would challenge her source. “Everyone did.”

“ _Everyone?_ ” Sonny blanched. They’d been alone, he was sure of it. There was no way he could have overlooked an audience. 

“Yeah.” Carla stopped sweeping, her eyebrows furrowing. “Are you okay?”

Sonny swallowed hard, scratching the back of his neck. “I guess I’m a little shocked.”

Carla seemed surprised. She tugged on a stray curl. “Really? Everyone suspected it would happen. How did you not notice the  _tension_?”

Sonny sagged in his seat, his face heating with embarrassment. “I guess I’m not as observant as I thought…”

“Whatever, Niño.” Carla laughed. “Anyway, we should go congratulate Benny and Nina later.”

“For what?” Sonny replied miserably.

Carla stared at him. “The big kiss— Wait.” She blinked a few times in confusion. “What kiss are  _you_ talking about?”

 

 _Fuck_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!  
> Comment your below to let me know what you think!  
> You can reach me through my tumblr: Godkller.tumblr.com


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